From the time I was a little girl, I have loved dressing up for Halloween.
Every year I look forward to devising my costume. Some years the look is elaborate and the ensemble itself is extraordinarily complex, like when I was Fairy GrandMartha or the Spellbinding Sorceress.
For those getups, I worked with the editors, makeup artists, costume designers and seamstresses to execute some pretty ambitious designs.
Other years, though, my costumes are virtually thrown together at the last minute: made from simple drugstore ingredients, my own cosmetics and kitsch. Wonder Woman was such a costume. Looking at the risqué photo now, I am embarrassed that I went out in public!
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Last year, my costume was a spontaneous response to a Halloween party with the theme “dress like Prince on Prince.” It took a bit of pondering, but I finally figured out that the hostess meant the recently deceased musician and performer Prince, and Richard Prince, a contemporary photographer and painter, who redefined the concept of “artistic ownership.”
I knew most attendees would wear purple for Prince the singer. But I found Richard Prince’s nurse series intriguing, because many were bloody — just right for Halloween, and the costume could be created by a quick visit to a good New York City drugstore.
This was perfect for a do-it-yourself costume, although I admit I had my makeup artist, Daisy Schwartzberg (@makeupbydaisy), drip liquid blood all over me and my uniform. I was tickled to win first prize that night: a silver bowl filled with gorgeous purple roses.
A costume I remember as particularly dreadful was the “surfer girl” outfit I wore to one of Bette Midler’s Hulaween Extravaganzas at the Waldorf Astoria to benefit the New York Restoration Project.
I dressed in a sexy but thick wet suit with flippers and a mask, and carried a surfboard. I hailed a cab, but the surfboard would not fit. So I had to walk 40 blocks, and it was a warm evening. I arrived drenched in sweat, exhausted and miserable. And the surfboard! So heavy!
This year I paid homage to the artist Roy Lichtenstein, reimagining one of his iconic characters.
The entire costume was very easy to create and wear: a white blouse, anklet stockinettes with stripes, navy slacks, gloves, a scarf and a fantastic wig. With help or without, good costumes can be fabricated from basic items.
My philosophy for dressing up is simple: Be silly, exaggerate and go way out!
Sources for Roy Lichtenstein-inspired costume: Makeup by Mark Edio using Make Up For Ever at See Management; hair by Stefano Greco at Bryan Bantry Agency for Mr. Smith; het design by Grace Hartnett. Anne Fontaine Armantine Shirt, $265, annefontaine.com. Wing & Weft Scoop Leather Gloves, in Red, $125, wingweftgloves.com. Carolina Bandanna, in Royal Blue, $6, amazon.com.
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